


Negotiations Gone Wrong (or Perhaps Terribly Right)

by Souls and Swords (WaluSqueegee)



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Coercive Trade, Espionage, Exhibitionism (to a degree), Fae & Fairies, Fear, Gen, Implied Enchantment, Implied Torture, Implied captivity, Intimidation, M/M, Master/Servant, Medieval/Renaissance Merchant Drama, No Explicit Sexual Content, Rating is High Just in Case, Scheming, Taking Advantage of Others' Fears, The Usual Dark Fae Business, Vercci is Devious, Voldo is Happy to Help, Weaponry, implied BDSM, negotiation, trickery, veiled threats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaluSqueegee/pseuds/Souls%20and%20Swords
Summary: Vercci has a terrible sense of humor, especially when he means to get back at someone who's wronged him. Unfortunately for one visiting trader, his attempts to pull one over on the Merchant of Death haven't gone unnoticed. They won't be going unpunished, either.
Relationships: Vercci/Voldo (Soul Calibur)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue: A Touch of Espionage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a spy comes a-creeping.

The tiny inn, though humble and unassuming next to other lodging-places in Milan, was a comfortable place for visiting merchants to stay at for a while. The rooms were clean and tastefully furnished, the beds were soft, and the well-stocked bar was tended to by a friendly (and not to mention attractive) staff. Whatever else could a traveler from abroad ask for? Certainly not much, in this already hospitable destination. No wonder such a welcoming city was a hub for trade in Italy. Yet where there was wealth and bustling mercantile trade, treachery and intrigue frolicked hand-in-hand in their wake. Little represented this duality better than the cloaked man watching from a shadowed alcove as a yawning merchant went downstairs.

The lack of windows and scarce illumination in the corridor outside the rooms made for many ideal hiding places on the upper floor. The spy had slipped into one as soon as he’d crept up the stairs, and now he slid easily out towards the room the merchant had left. He kept an eye out for any potential witnesses, but thus far it seemed he was truly alone in the hall.

_Good._

A locked door barred him from gaining entry, but a trusty lock-pick made short work of that obstacle. He eased open the door slowly, the hinges making only the quietest of creaks as the room was revealed to him. It was clean and neat, despite looking lived-in courtesy of the merchant. His possessions were in a tidy pile in the corner, but those weren’t what the spy was interested in. He was searching for something else. As fortune had it, he wouldn’t have to look far.

A book lay next to a case of writing utensils on a small table by the bed. The spy’s gaze sparkled as he approached his prize. He wasted no time in opening the book to leaf through its pages. From amidst the chaff of mundane observations and reminder scrawls, tantalizing secrets were revealed to his searching eyes. A smile crept across the spy’s face as he made careful mental note of what he was reading. He would be paid well for what he found here. Minor as the secrets might have been, they’d be as valuable as gold in the hands of his canny employer. And they’d be spent just as wisely, too. He closed the merchant’s diary, and placed it in the exact spot where he’d found it. Then he departed the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Despite Lady Luck’s kindness this morning, he felt tense as he re-secured the door with his lock-pick. All of this felt too easy, and he was far from experienced in these matters despite possessing calm confidence and a stealthy tread. It would be unfortunate if he were to be disturbed by a hapless passer-by now. But fortune’s great wheel had spun yet again in his favor. He was left alone to complete his task.

At last he rose up again, exhilaration setting his heart to pounding as he descended the inn stairs. He had accomplished what he’d set out to do, and it was a simple matter to exit unnoticed amongst the small crowd of inn guests. Basking in the sunlight shining down on the busy streets, he began to make his way back to the villa of his employer.

It would soon be time to reveal his findings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody will be very eager to hear about the contents of that diary. Very eager, indeed.


	2. A Fateful Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vercci receives the long-awaited findings.

“…So you discovered a diary, did you, Federico?” Vercci asked, loftily regarding the servant from his place in the bath.

He could have hurried to finish his bathing before Federico arrived to discuss what he’d found, but he had no inclination to. Baths were meant to be enjoyed, and given his physical state, he preferred to luxuriate in the warm water for as long as possible. Besides, what did it really matter if a servant saw him like this? Or even _two_ servants, one of whom was currently assisting him with his ablutions?

No, it mattered not at all, despite the faint discomfort that fluttered in his chest. But that would pass soon enough.

“Forgive me, sir. I would have brought it with me, but I did not wish to raise his suspicions with its absence.” Federico said, politely averting his eyes. “I memorized the information I thought you would find pertinent.”

Vercci grinned, reclining further back against the tub. “Out with it then, sirrah. Tell me what it is you thought so important.”

“This merchant who is giving you so much trouble, sir, does have a weakness.” Federico replied.

Furrowing his brow, Vercci gave the information a moment’s reflection. “Weakness? A vague statement, Federico. Surely you can clarify. Is it drink? Women or men? Perhaps he’s too familiar with the interior of the gambling-house?”

“None of those that I could tell, sir. He is a man of sober living and early bedrest, relatively speaking.” explained Federico. “His weakness is…more of a phobia, I would say. Mayhap even a superstition.”

Vercci narrowed his eyes. “Superstition. He’s a religious man?” he said.

“Enough to believe in forces unseen in this world, sir.” Federico replied. “And to believe you to be among them.”

“ _What?!”_ A sudden stream of water flowed from the bucket Voldo held and splashed onto Vercci’s head, making his expression of shock all the more comical. But neither servant laughed, even as he sputtered. The corner of Vercci’s mouth twitched. Seconds later, he was smiling again. His servants were always respectful. He’d have their heads if they weren’t.

“A bit too early, Voldo, but thank you for the assistance with rinsing.” Vercci said. Running a hand through his soaked hair, he turned his attention back to the waiting Federico. “He believes me to be _what_ , exactly?”

“A supernatural being, sir, something he calls a…” Federico struggled with the unfamiliar English word. “’Fae.’ But I do not know what kind of creature that is.”

“’Fae.’” Vercci dragged a thin, delicate finger over his beard. “I faintly recall hearing about them. Rather similar to this peninsula’s own _fate_ , except the English Fae are not only women. So it is said, at least.”

“How unusual, sir.” Federico said.

“Very, but not as strange as the fact that he believes _me_ to be a Fae.” laughed Vercci. “Why would he even entertain such a notion?”

Federico shook his head. “He also noticed how different you look from your relations. ‘He possesses not the warm, tan complexion nor the hale, dark hair boasted by his brothers, but is instead pale, with a cold blue gaze and hair like golden flax.’”

“And he must fancy himself a literary man. Imagine, using turns of phrase like those in his private writings.” scoffed Vercci, crossing his arms. “I look different from Enrico and the rest, but that doesn’t make me inhuman.”

“Sir, it is little wonder he has such flights of fancy.” Federico said. “Even the other visiting merchants here seem to want nothing to do with him. When I was leaving, he was alone in a corner near the bar, with every man avoiding him. Perhaps he did something in the past that makes them cagey and him paranoid.”

“Ha! That’s only the nature of the merchant trade.” Vercci grinned. “The boldest thrive, and the timid make up stories as to why others don’t roll over for them. If he’s so weak-willed, he should be in a different business.”

He contemplated the waters around him for a while, seemingly lost in thought as he gestured for Voldo to give his back another scrub. This was a small, yet interesting piece of information Federico had brought him. On the surface, it wasn’t as much to work with as a gambling problem or embarrassing intimate indiscretion would have been. And yet, the faintest glimmer of an idea was beginning to come together in Vercci’s mind, one that promised to set him on top yet again. All it would take was a little planning, some practice, and a generous amount of time in his personal library. 

“…But very well.” he finally said, returning his gaze to Federico. “I set you to spying work, and you’ve come back with something of use to me. You will receive your bonus pay this evening, when your regular duties are finished.”

“You are generous, sir, it really was only a minor find-“

“Come off the false modesty, Federico, it doesn’t suit you.” said Vercci, waving his hand. With that, he began his attempt to leave the tub, the bath no longer holding appeal as his library called to him. Voldo stepped in to assist, helping him to gracefully step out onto the stone floor and into the waiting embrace of a luxurious towel. Then he began to dry himself, seemingly heedless of the fact he was dripping wet and completely nude in front of two other men.

He went to great lengths to care for and groom his body, and knew in his heart of hearts that he shouldn’t be ashamed of it. As far as he was concerned, the church had done everyone a disservice by harping on about “decency” and “modesty.” Neither of those things truly existed in such a grimy, cutthroat world as this, and likely only had a sparrow’s chance in the sea of existing in the afterlife. True, he normally hid his form quite well and valued his privacy due to his ill health…but Federico had interrupted his bathing hours. If he hadn’t wanted to get even a glimpse of nakedness, he shouldn’t have set foot in the chamber.

Noting the redness that had come to Federico’s face, Vercci smirked. “You’re dismissed, Federico.”

Federico bowed. “Thank you, sir.” He scurried out the door with some haste, making Vercci’s eyes sparkle with amusement.

That was, until he heard a low growl from the tall servant behind him. Vercci turned to look up at Voldo, who was clearly and obviously displeased. But Vercci only smiled. “Ah, jealous, are we?”

After another growl, Voldo lowered himself to Vercci’s ear, giving quiet voice to his complaints.

“Is that all?” Vercci regarded him with disbelief. “You think that I would deign to offer myself to _Federico,_ of all people? He’s the womanizer of my retinue, and a souse during the winter holidays at that! And besides, my dear servant, he could never afford any of the assets I own.”

With a cunning wink of his eye, he brought one of Voldo’s spidery hands to his own bare chest. “And neither could you, at one time. But how fortunes change…though I assure you his never will, as long as I live. He’ll have to content himself with those additional wages, whenever he earns them.”

Voldo murmured, a soft sound that betrayed his relief and more than a twinge of desire.

Vercci shook his head, looking away for a moment. “To think someone as elegant as you would want someone like _me,_ of all people. Ill, infirm, and shorter than any other man in this region.”

Voldo sniffed, and pulled him closer into the safety of those long, shapely arms. Vercci breathed in the other man’s scent, feeling a warmth and acceptance he’d known with no others, not even his own family. It _would_ be a servant who would come along to forge such trust with him, wouldn’t it? Fate had given him strange twists and turns in his life, yet he was ever-thankful for the one that had brought Voldo to him.

He at last disentangled himself from Voldo’s grasp, wrapping the towel more firmly around himself. Though the taller man sighed with apparent regret, he nonetheless gave his master the space he wanted.

“I’m still the Merchant of Death, at the end of the day. And all will fear rather than love me.” Vercci gave the taller man a wry look. “Except for you, you strange, strange man.”

Making a brief noise that could be taken as laughter, Voldo stood by for further orders. They were soon given, as Vercci began to stride away.

“Come now, and help me dress. I have much reading to do today, not to mention planning out your role in the little drama I have in mind. Our English friend will _rue_ the day that he tried to cross me with his antics!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like Vercci got exactly what he wanted from the espionage. Pity the poor merchant who tried to wrong the Merchant of Death...he will be paid back in some form of suffering, no doubt.


End file.
